


Reverie

by whopackedthese



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fantasy, Forbidden Love, M/M, PWP, Sex Dream, Valentine's Day, Your gay is showing, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whopackedthese/pseuds/whopackedthese
Summary: ...he was unfastening the belt on his trousers and staring down at his navel as the long fingers of Mycroft's hands covered his own...





	

'I don't do Valentine's,' Greg insisted, shaking his head. He needed a shave - the sexy stubble had gone beyond sexy and was working its way toward homeless. His salt and pepper hair was lacking it's usual lustre and his eyes were tired from three straight eighteen hour shifts he really could have done without. And yet Mycroft stood before him, suited as usual in something fitting and perfect, with not a single hair out of place, and smiled as though Greg were done up, too, and perfect in every single way possible. 

'But I do,' Mycroft said smoothly. He stepped from his position at the door of Greg's office and moved further into the room, stopping only when the desk before him became a barrier. He looked down at Greg in his chair and raised his eyebrows. 'So stand up, Gregory, and come to dinner with me.' 

Greg smirked up at him in marginal disbelief, 'You're insane.' He shook his head and closed his eyes as his smirk became a laugh. 'I look like shit, Myc, and I am not about to go like this to any one of your fucking restaurants to be stared at like you're dining with your staff.' 

Mycroft shook his head with a sly smile, 'You misunderstand me,' he said simply. 'Stand,' he said again, 'Take off your jacket, loosen your tie, and don't stop removing and loosening until you are standing before me in nothing but your birthday suit.' 

Greg's brows twitched high on his brow and his brown eyes grew so wide and dark it was hard to see where his pupils ended. 'I am not stripping in my office,' he said on the edge of an embarrassed laugh. 'You _are_ insane. You Holmes boys must have had one fucked up childhood.' 

'You couldn't even begin to fathom the half of it,' Mycroft said offhandedly. 'Now remove your clothes, or you'll find yourself at the mercy of my hands removing them for you and you know by now, Gregory, I am not into _legwork_...' 

The expression on Mycroft's face alone drew Greg to his feet, their eyes locked with barely a blink between them, and his hands began following instructions he was almost hypnotised into adhering to. In moments, he was unfastening the belt on his trousers and staring down at his navel as the long fingers of Mycroft's hands covered his own and stopped him in his tracks. He blinked and looked up, eyes sullen and mouth unable to find a comfortable way of holding itself... 

 

...and he jerked awake, legs falling from their propped position on his desk sending him almost tumbling from his chair as he wrenched forwards, knocking files to the floor. Three sharp knocks on his office door and Greg realised he'd drifted away, far too deeply, in a stolen moment of quiet. He swallowed, feeling arousal in his throat as well as his abdomen, and coughed before he dared speak. 'Come in...' 

'Sir?' Sally Donovan's curly head appeared around the frame of the door. 'Call for you - line three, been waiting a while. Freak's brother...'


End file.
